Anon Out Of The Earth

Forget Thyself To Marble.

Ride The Air In Whirlwind.

There Swift Return Diurnal, Merely To Officiate Light Round This Opacous Earth, This Punctual Spot.

Let Us Go Forth And Resolutely Dare With Sweat Of Brow To Toil Our Little Day.

Thus With The Year Seasons Return, But Not To Me Returns Day, Or The Sweet Approach Of Ev'n Or Morn, Or Sight Of Vernal Bloom, Or Summer's Rose, Or Flocks, Or Herds, Or Human Face Divine.